


kicking and screaming

by thefudge



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Banter, F/M, Fluff, Married Couple, Oral Sex, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: A very pregnant Veronica just wants one quiet night of reading in bed. But her unborn son has other ideas.
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64





	kicking and screaming

**Author's Note:**

> yall goaded me! https://thefudge.tumblr.com/post/644592058257047552/yooo-i-read-your-parentsjeronica-fanfic-like-3

They’re both reading quietly in bed when Veronica sets down her copy of _Wolf Hall_ with a sigh and lifts up her nightgown, revealing her very pregnant belly.

“Your son is doing it again.”

Jughead looks up.

The smooth surface of her belly is indented with tiny feet which are kicking rhythmically, up and down.

The first time Seymour kicked, it was a miracle, a message from a God they never believed in. They were both so shaken, so caught up in the _wonder_ of it all that they didn’t notice the _peculiarities_ of his kicking.

The problem with Seymour’s kicking is that it has a _design_. He’s not just testing the limits of his biological home. He’s not just trying out the locomotive function of his limbs. No, he’s _making_ something. He’s composing some kind of bizarre symphony, because Veronica swears it has a rhythm. Jughead thinks it’s probably a version of Morse code. _Probably_. Not like their kid is being inhabited by a demon.

“I knew we shouldn’t have re-watched _Rosemary’s Baby_ ,” Veronica mutters, mirroring his thoughts.

He takes off his glasses and quickly slides down until his head is level with her belly. He strokes the surface gingerly. He pokes his son’s tiny soles as they come up against the tender flesh. Seymour eagerly responds.

“Can you _not_ encourage him?” she grumbles.

“Hey, you were the cheerleader in high school. Maybe he’s showing off your dance genes.” 

“Or maybe he’s setting up a murder board in the womb. Maybe he’s showing off your creeper genes.”

“My creeper genes? I usually _caught_ the creeps.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Well…what does that make you, since you married a creep and also let him impregnate you?”

Veronica makes a face. “I can’t believe you said ‘ _impregnate’_. You really are a creep.”

Jughead grins. “Guess what this creep will do next.”

He lowers his mouth to her belly, puckers his lips and starts blowing against the sensitive flesh.

Veronica is helpless against the onslaught. She starts laughing.

“S-stop it! You know that tickles! You know I _hate_ it!”

But when has he ever listened? He blows harder.

Seymour seems to think this is a “make Mommy suffer”-themed party, because he starts kicking with even more gusto.

Veronica growls and picks up her copy of _Wolf Hall_. “I _will_ hit you. And it _will_ hurt. You know I have double my usual strength.”

“Exposing the kid to so much violence already,” Jughead mumbles disapprovingly against her belly. His blowing turns into soft kissing.

Veronica hates how quickly her body melts into it. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy her husband’s kissing, as a rule, but the pregnancy has kicked all her sensations into overdrive and Jughead’s plump, worshipful lips against her belly make her want to shove his head between her legs.

She settles on running her fingers through his hair.

Seymour’s kicks are more intermittent now, as if sensing the shift in mood.

Jughead looks up at her with hooded eyes. “Does it make me an actual creep that I kind of want to…take the party downstairs?”

Veronica swallows. “Technically, downstairs is where one usually holds a party. So.”

“So…” he trails off, licking his lips. “Do you think Seymour will mind?”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll kick me.”

Jughead chuckles. “The kid’s gotta learn sometime.”

Veronica smiles, but she shifts her weight uncomfortably in Jughead’s arms. “I’m…way too big. I won’t even be able to see you.”

“Well, the point isn’t to _see_ me.”

“Still. I’m too big.”

“You’re not. You’re just the right size. Trust me, I’m a creep. I should know.”

Veronica laughs. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

Jughead lowers his lips to her belly. “And I haven’t even started.”

Veronica hums happily as he kisses a trail down to the apex of her thighs.

If Seymour stops kicking she can’t rightly tell, because she’s currently trying not to come too fast. He’s not doing anything _too_ adventurous with his tongue and teeth, and yet she clutches the sheets anyway. _Wolf Hall_ hits the floor with a thud. Fucking pregnancy hormones. 

She can hear Jughead’s deep groan as she comes messily on his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. Even as an adult, he’s always eating.

After her second pretty shattering orgasm which he drinks to the last drop, he lifts his head, eyes dark and attentive.

“Seymour’s turned really quiet,” he notes, cocking his head. “You think we’re traumatizing him?”

Veronica struggles to wipe the sweat from her eyes. “I should hope so. Maybe this way, he won’t want to touch another human being until he’s in college.” 

Jughead licks his lips. “Is that really healthy?”

“Well, you did say we could raise him Catholic.”

He laughs, rubbing his nose against her belly. Veronica signals for him to come up. They share a long, sweaty kiss, which neither of them really minds.

Except Seymour. He starts kicking again.

Veronica sighs into the kiss. 

“Maybe he’s asking for round three,” Jughead whispers, catching her lower lip between his teeth.

Veronica bites back. “That would _definitely_ make your son a creep.”

But she doesn’t really offer any other objections when her husband dives back in, because, as they both know, she wouldn't have it any other way. 


End file.
